Beauty in Madness
by Sakura's Pointe Shoes
Summary: She always looked more beautiful in times of distress. Mme Giry/Erik
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Absolutely no copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: This is my first Phantom of the Opera fic, and I am most definitely a Mme Giry/Erik shipper. I always adore the unconventional pairings for some reason...Anyway, I hope you like it, please leave some feedback so I can improve. Oh and this was meant to be a one shot, but I think I will most likely write a few others to go along with it.

**Beauty in Madness**

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The shards of broken glass lay scattered all around his heaving body as he groaned in despair. In the distance, the Phantom could still hear the water as it gave way beneath Raul's oar and Christine's higher pitched keening while they drifted away from his domain.

He lay there, sobbing wretchedly, and a thousand miserable thoughts flitted through his head. This was the price he paid for such a disastrous love. The only way he could atone for his crimes was to let Christine go, unfortunately it was also the most painful thing he ever had to face in his entire existence.

The passionate fury that merged with such fierce longing had long since evaporated and transformed into resignation and utter weariness. He could not bear to even look up, the reality of the situation reminded him endlessly that Christine would never be his no matter how much he wished otherwise. That fact was as solid as a physical punch to his gut.

His sensitive ears picked up a soft pitter-pattering of footsteps nearby. He disregarded it as either his vivid imagination or the inevitable approach of a search party that would bear him away to prison where he would rot until the day he died. He did not care either way. He was too tired to move, too broken. Let them do what they like, he did _not_ care any longer.

To his faint surprise, he heard a soft voice vaguely above his head speaking to him.

"You let her go." It said, pleasant and lulling to his senses. It was a female, contralto, and suffused with an inexplicable emotion. He knew exactly who it was.

"I had to." The phantom whispered. He felt two hands upon his shoulders that gently hoisted him upright into a sitting position, he was forced to look at her now.

"You are not a monster, Erik. To many, you are a ghost. To Christine, you are half angel and half demon. To me, you are a man who deserves a chance at final redemption,"-she broke off, tears shining in her eyes. "You must hurry before they find you!"

He felt bereft when she stopped talking. He loved her tone, the way she let words effortlessly roll off her tongue, yet the meaning of those words were lost on him.

"I cannot, Antoinette! Can't you see? I cannot continue living when my Christine is gone. She was everything…" A tear rolled down his scarred cheek, she thought she had never seen him look so broken and desolate as he did now.

She placed her smooth palm over his cheek and dried his tears with her thumb. Her touch was tender as it always had been, similar to Christine's yet different in the respect that Antoinette's touch was induced out of the deepest respect for him. Christine had touched him-kissed him- purely out of childlike curiosity and pity as well. His eyes fluttered shut as he tried to savour the moment, a small semblance of peace before the torrent flooded in and carried them away.

"Please, Erik. Run…For my sake if anything. Please," Now she was crying, droplets running down her alabaster cheeks as she grasped his face with both of her hands. He stared at her with tenderness as he considered this strange possibility and wondered why he never noticed her before.

"I…" He faltered as his future flashed before his eyes, frightening and intriguing all at once. "I shall go."

She exhaled in relief and smiled, her expression displayed open rejoicing that he had not completely surrendered to his grief. There was still hope, there was still a chance for him to escape from the heartbreak Christine unwittingly dealt.

Helping him stand, she smoothed back errant strands of his dark hair and straightened out his collar. He sighed as he looked her over once more, for the first time since he had met her, Erik realized that Antoinette was always more beautiful in times of distress. Her eyes, such lovely orbs of blue, were blazing with urgency and her tousled auburn hair framed her face with wispy curls.

If he ever saw her again, he thought he would tell her that.

By the time the search party reached the murky lair, the Phantom had vanished and Madame Giry stood alone on the stone floor, clutching the white mask in her right hand.

"He was already gone when I arrived. I found this, on the floor beside the mirrors." She admitted, somewhat truthfully.

No one questioned her, not even her own daughter. Every one of them trudged through the water and onwards until they exited the subterranean chamber. Antoinette Giry paused briefly to look over her shoulder. She imagined he was in a coach heading away from Paris, somewhere remote and peaceful in the countryside.

_God bless your soul, Erik, wherever you may be, _She thought as she entered the world of reality once more.

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The end…

A/N: Please tell me what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Beauty in Madness

Summary: Here's part two. I am so happy with the response to this fic! Thank you guys for reviewing.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no copyright infringement is intended.

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When the coach finally rattled to a halt, Antoinette's stomach lurched terribly due partly to nausea and nervousness. She paid the driver and disembarked quickly, clutching her carpetbag at her side. Her eyes immediately turned to stare at the little cottage at the end of the dirt road.

It looked quaint, rustic, and charming from the outside. A grin touched her lips. No one would ever think to look for the dreadful Phantom here, it was a wise choice on his part. Her legs seemed to move of their own accord, she approached the front door in a few swift strides and then her knuckles rapped upon it three times in quick succession.

She waited awkwardly for a moment, shifting her weight uneasily before she finally heard movement behind the wooden surface.

It creaked open slightly, as if he was not quite sure of her identity and then it swung wider as he verified that it was indeed her.

Antoinette felt a pang of uncertainty at the look on his face. He wore a mask, but all she needed to see were his eyes, those eyes that were currently filled with something akin to shock.

"Erik? I…I know that my presence here might be unwelcoming to you. I just…" She fidgeted under his scrutiny, "I just needed to know you were alright and-"

His lips had claimed hers before she could finish her sentence. Surprise flitted through her mind as his hands pressed firmly into her waist, holding her close to his body. His tongue coaxed her lips open and he kissed her deeply, the gesture felt more intimate than anything she had ever shared with her husband. Quite frankly, it forced all coherent thought from her head.

He began to step backwards, taking her with him. Antoinette dropped her bag onto the hardwood floor and kicked the door shut behind her.

"Are you alright?" He did not know what to make of her reticence, especially since she had not promptly disentangled herself from his embrace.

The first time she had come to visit him after he'd run away, he was quite angry with her. He had lots of time to think about all that had transpired. He was furious with the world, and it was all he could do to channel it at the nearest person, which happened to be her. Naturally, he had not received any visitors except her, and she handled his spiteful accusations with much grace.

The next few times she had come to see him, he was not so angry, only contrite at how he treated her. After all, Antoinette had saved his neck twice now, and she did not deserve to be repaid with insults. Erik could not bring himself to speak to her then. Guilt, his constant companion throughout his life, had robbed him of his voice.

She respected him and kept her distance, cooking meals for him and reading quietly in his sitting room. To Erik's surprise, it was pleasant having her around. She seemed to care for him more than he thought she did, her sweet smiles and glances betrayed her fondness of him. Soon enough, Erik found himself subconsciously gravitating toward her. He wanted to be worthy of her love more than anything.

It startled him, this recent realization of feelings. This was not violent obsession like it had been for so long with Christine. It was tender and fleeting, something warm and effervescent that made him yearn for Antoinette whenever she was gone back to Paris. His dreams had changed, it was her face he imagined, not Christine's.

He did not want to wait any longer. His usual eloquence had eluded him, so when he saw her standing at his front door, he surrendered to his instincts and threw caution to the wind. He wasted so much time already.

"I am fine, I just was not prepared for such a warm welcome." The happy lilt in her tone relieved him greatly.

"With your permission, my dear, I would like to do much more…" Erik faltered as he noticed her eyes fill with sudden doubt. Fear once again ran cold through his heart.

"Erik, I must tell you that I do not enter into such relationships lightly. If what you are looking for is a replacement for Christine Daae, then I cannot agree to this."

He inhaled sharply and hurried to assuage her, "I want you, Antoinette. I do not know what else to say, other than that I do not proposition women that I do not love."

Neither of them spoke for a very long time.

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TBC…


End file.
